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Miss Narayan frowned, radiating anxious tension as she watched Francis step away. She was obviously experiencing some sort of debate about whether to follow her brother’s orders. Or perhaps she was second-guessing her acceptance of his mother’s invitation. Or it could have been something else. It was clear that the woman held a great deal of internal conflict. Knowing that made Francis want to take her into his arms and soothe away whatever had her tied in knots.
There was no time to explore that idea just then, however. His mother fell into step on one side of him and Aunt Josephine flanked him on the other. Within seconds, he was being marched away with a force as inextricable as the tide.
“I shall accept your thanks in the form of those pastries I like from Harris’s Bakery,” his mother said when they were close to the edge of the park.
“I beg your pardon?” Francis feigned complete innocence about her meaning.
His mother sent him a sly grin. “You have curious tastes, my dear,” she said.
“Though you must admit, Muriel, Miss Narayan is quite a beauty,” Aunt Josephine added.
Francis rolled his eyes, though inwardly he was eager to hear what his mother thought of his choice. “Miss Narayan is the daughter of a king,” he said. “The dowry that she would bring with her would be more than enough to restore our family’s fortunes.”
“Oh, yes,” his mother said, dripping with sarcasm. “That is the reason you have your sights set on her.”
“It is,” Francis insisted, then let out a breath of defeat and continued with, “in part. She is also quite intelligent, and she possesses a spritely personality.”
Both his mother and Aunt Josephine laughed at that characterization.
“She is a firebrand, you mean,” Aunt Josephine said.
“You always did like a woman who could run roughshod over you,” his mother added.
Heat flooded Francis’s face and a unique form of embarrassment curled through him. His mother couldn’t know anything about the sort of romantic liaisons he’d enjoyed in the past. It wasn’t as though he always preferred to be dominated by a woman, he just liked the challenge of taming one. Even if he sometimes lost in that effort.
“Wouldn’t you like to have a princess in the family?” he asked his mother instead.
His mother laughed. “I should like that very much,” she said. “What an interesting set of daughters-in-law I might have. An Irish tart, an infamous actress, and if Joseph is reeled in by that dreadfully gauche American, a cowgirl.”
“Mother, you cannot refer to Alice as a tart. It isn’t kind.” That was the best defense Francis could come up with. Because, in fact, his mother was right.
“I like Alice excessively,” his mother argued. “And I am very fond of Nanette as well. Miss Narayan holds great promise also.” She paused before saying, “I suppose I could grow used to the American, if that match proceeds.”
Francis couldn’t help but laugh and lean over to kiss his mother’s cheek as they reached the street and he hailed a cab to take them the rest of the way home.
“I do so love you, Mama,” he said using the pet name that only Joseph used these days. “And I am grateful that you have not disowned us all for our plot to bring down the family name with unsuitable brides.”
“Yes, well,” his mother said, lifting a hand to pat his cheek when he’d finished kissing her, “it does make life interesting. And I have received more invitations to tea than ever in my life, because as high and mighty as our class can be, we do love a bit of gossip.”
“There you have it,” Francis said. “This mad plan of ours may have benefits we have not previously considered.”
It was the benefits they had considered that mattered to Francis, though. They truly did need the dowry Miss Narayan would surely bring with her. And if he were honest, he craved the excitement that Miss Narayan would bring to his life. All he had to do now was play the game that had been set out before him and win it.
